


monsters stuck in your head

by butterflylungs



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Brief Mention of Suicide, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, alec comforting magnus bc i live for that, descriptions of violence but it's very Vague, mention of character death (it's not real), sometimes magnus can see the future in his dreams and it sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflylungs/pseuds/butterflylungs
Summary: The streets were wet with blood.Magnus stumbled, his booted feet slipping on the cement. Looking around, he could tell that he was in Alicante. He didn’t know how he got there or what he was doing. He didn’t know why there was blood all around him.*Magnus has a very particular nightmare.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, in City of Lost Souls there's a brief mention of Magnus having some kind of vision of the future, and my friend Hazel had this idea: what if Magnus can see the future in his sleep sometimes, and what if he had a nightmare about Alec and didn't know if it was a prophecy or not?
> 
> I loved the concept, so I wrote it and here it is!
> 
> Huge thanks to Avery for proof reading, and obviously to Hazel for the prompt. Title is from 'Monsters' by Ruelle. Enjoy!

_The streets were wet with blood._

_Magnus stumbled, his booted feet slipping on the cement. Looking around, he could tell that he was in Alicante. He didn’t know how he got there or what he was doing. He didn’t know why there was blood all around him._

_He didn’t know why his stomach was in knots, his limbs petrified with fear. There was something very, very wrong. He had...what did he have to do? There was something missing. Someone._

_Trying to remember, he started walking unsteadily. It was dark around him, the night broken only by the occasional light. He could hear demons screeching somewhere. There were bodies ahead of him._

_Laying on the ground, dozens of Shadowhunters. A scene of destruction unfolded before his eyes. He paused for a second. What had happened? A demon attack? A battle?_

_He wanted to go back. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend it wasn’t happening. He was tired, tired of seeing death, tired of surviving people. Tired of mourning, of standing over graves and wondering who, out of his loved ones, would be next._

_But he didn’t have that luxury. He couldn’t pretend. So he kept walking, almost driven by an unknown force. He glanced at the corpses around him, hoping someone was still alive. But the Nephilim were silent, their eyes closed or empty._

_And then he saw her. She was on her back, her dark hair fanned around her head like a halo. Her eyes were closed, a gaping wound in her throat. A whip lay useless by her open hand._

_Isabelle._

_He drew a shaky breath, and sank to his knees next to her. Magic started pouring from his fingertips, blue and healing, but in his heart he knew it was already too late. She was gone._

_“Isabelle. Izzy.” He whispered, his voice full of grief. Isabelle Lightwood, so strong and fierce. How could have this happened?_

_And then a realization passed through his body, striking him like a bolt of lightning. The blood in his veins froze, the fear so strong that he almost toppled over, and he had to put a hard on the cold ground to steady himself._

_Alec. Where was Alec? if Isabelle had been there…_

_He got up on shaky legs, his breath coming out fast and panicked. If Alec had been dead, he would have felt it. He would have known. He had survived, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t accept any other possibility._

_He started walking faster, looking frantically among the mass of bodies at his feet, dread choking his lungs. He had to be okay, he had to be okay. He wasn’t there._

_He’d almost convinced himself, until his foot hit something and he stumbled. He looked down, and saw a pale hand wearing a familiar ring. Silver, now stained with blood. It had the initials ‘M.B.’ carved onto its surface. He had given it to Alec, he remembered, on their first anniversary. The year after that Alec had given him the Lightwood family ring, which was still on finger. He had never taken it off._

_Time stopped moving._

_Magnus choked on his breath, falling to his knees once again. He crawled towards the body, his hands meeting the puddle of red blood under Alec’s torso. He was sprawled messily on the ground, an open hole in his chest, his hazel eyes open and empty, the stars reflected in them._

_“Alexander,” He begged, his voice cracking painfully. He took hold of Alec’s shoulder and dragged the man in his lap, his hands shaking. “No, no. Alexander. Alec, open your eyes, please.”_

_Magnus didn’t beg. He was a proud man, and he had seen too much pain and hurt to still believe that it would change anything. After the loss of his first love, he’d realized that no amount of imploring would bring back what was gone. Death and time showed no mercy._

_Faced with Alec’s dead body, all his beliefs crumbled. He would have done anything, he would have begged on his hands and knees for Alec to open his eyes, for him to smile one more time, just one last time._

_“No!” He sobbed, gripping Alec’s shirt, sparks fizzling from between his fingers, blue mixed with red. He tried to reach out with his magic, praying that he would feel something, that he could fix this, bring Alec back._

_He found nothing. All he was met with was emptiness, the chilling silence of death._

_It’s not fair, he thought, it’s not fair. It wasn’t supposed be like this. Three years were barely enough. Alec was supposed to be around for a long time, they were supposed to get married, he was supposed to grow old. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. It was not their time yet._

_It couldn’t be._

_A scream tore out of Magnus’ throat, full of grief and despair._

_Alec, Alec, his Alexander…_

*

“Magnus! Magnus, wake up! Hey!” 

He gasped, his eyes flying open. His chest was still tight with fear and pain, and for a few moments he couldn’t get his bearings. He looked around, confused. He was in his room, not in a battlefield full of death. 

The curtains were drawn shut, and the only source of light came from the lamp on the bedstand. Alec was sitting up next to him, hands on his shoulders as if to shake him. He was looking down at Magnus with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Alec asked, bringing his hands to Magnus’ face and wiping under his eyes with his thumbs. Magnus distantly realized that he must have been crying and screaming in his sleep, and that he had woken up Alec. 

The dream came back to him all at once. His hands flew up and he gripped Alec’s wrists, pulling the younger man towards him into an embrace. He was warm with sleep, solid under his palms, his back expanding with every breath. 

Alec returned the hug, even though he was clearly confused. He stroked Magnus’ back in a gesture of comfort. 

“Magnus, you’re shaking.”

Magnus buried his face in Alec’s shoulder, trying to get a grip. _It was just a dream_ , he told himself. _Just a dream. Alec’s alive, he’s here, he’s okay._

But had it really been just a dream?

For as long as he could remember, Magnus recalled having dreams that eventually came true. It wasn’t an usual occurrence, it had happened only a handful of times during all the centuries he’d lived; he remembered each one of them.

He remembered having a blurry dream of a rope hanging from a pillar, swaying back and forth. Just a few days later, his mother had hung herself. He’d dreamed of water and not being able to breathe, and then his adoptive father had tried to drown him.

He didn’t have any prophetic dreams for a long time after that. He had been young, and he had chalked it up to coincidence, but then it had happened again and again as an adult, and eventually he’d been forced to accept that sometimes he could see the future in his sleep, that not only he’d have to live with the knowledge that most people he loved would die and leave him, but that he could very well end up seeing their demise in his dreams beforehand.

He could still smell the stench of death and ichor, could still feel the blood staining his hands, could still feel the weight of Alec’s cold body. How was he supposed to know if it was a prophecy or not? It had been _so_ real, like he’d been living it. 

His heart wouldn’t stop racing behind his ribs. What if it came true? He couldn’t lose Alec. Not so soon. He wasn’t ready.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize that his breath had started stuttering. Alec pulled back from the embrace, looking at him with a frown etched on his face.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

He didn’t know how to explain. He knew he was scaring Alec. In all the time they’d been together, he’d never had a nightmare that felt so realistic, so close to what it felt like to have a prophetic dream. Alec had never had to deal with this, with this part of Magnus, even though he was aware of what Magnus could do. But knowing it and witnessing it were very different things.

He drew a tentative breath, trying to find some kind of steadiness within him. When it came to Alec, it was hard to control himself, especially at the prospect of Alec being in danger.

“I…” He started. “I’m fine, Alexander. I’m okay. It was just a bad dream. I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m sorry.”

The lie in his voice was blatant even to his own ears. 

“You never acted like this after a nightmare.” Alec pointed out quietly. They were both sitting up now, facing each other on the bed. Alec was stroking the inside of his wrist with his thumb, almost absent-mindedly, like trying to reassure Magnus in that small way was something that came naturally to him.

“No, I suppose not.” Magnus agreed after a moment of silence. “I saw...something terrible, and I’m scared it might come true.”

_Scared_ was putting it mildly. He’d rarely felt that kind of terror, so overwhelming that his lungs still felt constricted. 

“What did you see?” Alec searched his face, and Magnus had to fight the urge to avoid his gaze and put up his walls. He’d never been comfortable with people seeing him vulnerable, and this...this was him split wide open. He didn’t know what his face looked like, what Alec could see in his eyes that Magnus didn’t have the energy to hide. 

“I...I think I saw the aftermath of a battle. There were bodies all around me, bodies of Nephilim. Your...your sister was among them.” His voice wavered. Alec inhaled sharply, but didn’t say anything.

“And then...you were there too, Alec. Dead. I couldn’t do anything to save you, it was too late.” 

He felt Alec’s hand grip his wrist. He looked down, and he stared hard at the point of connection between their bodies, Alec’s pale and long fingers in contrast with Magnus’ brown skin.

“It felt so real.” He admitted. “I can’t tell...I don’t know if it was a normal dream or a prophecy.” 

The silence was heavy between them. After a few moments, Magnus finally found it in himself to look up, and he met Alec’s eyes. 

He found confusion and fear in them, and he hated that he’d been the one to put those feelings there. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him anything, he should’ve said it had been a normal nightmare, shielded Alec from the burden of the truth. 

“But you usually know.” He said bluntly. Alec was never one to be delicate with his words. “Why can’t you tell, this time?”

Magnus hesitated. Why couldn’t he? He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat so big that it was painful. 

“I don’t know, I...I was terrified, Alec. If I lost you…” It wasn’t an explanation, but an attempt to express what he was feeling, what concerns the dream had brought to the surface, the reason he couldn’t even begin to untangle what he’d seen.

Alec was silent for a few seconds, clearly expecting him to continue, but Magnus couldn’t put into words what he was thinking. 

“Okay, what do prophetic dreams usually feel like?” Alec said, trying to help. Magnus held his hand and tried to focus on the feeling of Alec’s skin against his, tried to anchor himself to the moment. He could do this. He couldn’t let fear rule his head.

“They...they feel real, like regular dreams. I can _see _the event that’s going to take place, sometimes I can even interact with it, but it’s all very...bleak. Like I’m watching something unfold on a screen.”__

__It was hard to explain into simple terms what it felt like too see the future._ _

__“And what did your nightmare feel like?” Alec asked. Magnus was glad for how methodical the man was sometimes._ _

__“I told you, it felt real, like prophecies. I could...I could feel your blood on my hands. You were cold. I could smell the ichor in the air. I could _feel_ everything, like I was really there, like you were really dead.”_ _

__Being able to touch Alec helped him gain some stability, and he managed to get out the words without his voice breaking or his breath stuttering._ _

__Alec seemed to think his words over for a few seconds, and then realization broke over his features. Magnus frowned._ _

__“What?” He asked, impatient._ _

__“Can you feel all of that, in your prophecies? Can you smell, feel the cold of a body or the blood on your skin?”_ _

__Magnus blinked, surprised, and paused to reflect. Could he? He’d never really thought about it. He thought back to his first prophecy. He hadn’t heard the sound of the rope swinging, he’d just seen it. And when he’d dreamed of drowning, he hadn’t felt the coldness of the water against his skin._ _

__“No, I...I guess not.” He breathed out eventually. His eyes met Alec’s, and the younger man smiled at him. He must have still looked shaken, because Alec moved forward and rested their foreheads together._ _

__“Magnus, hey. I’m here, okay? It was just a nightmare. I’m alive. I’m alright.”_ _

__Alec grabbed one of Magnus’ hands and rested it on his chest. Under his palm, Magnus could feel the steady beat of Alec’s heart. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and the anxiety and panic that had been swirling in his stomach since he woke up finally settled._ _

__Eventually, he pulled away a little and smiled at Alec, his composure slipping back in place._ _

__“Well, that was unbecoming.” He joked lightly. He needed to take away some of the heaviness of the situation, or he’d start to feel seriously uncomfortable. His vulnerability was something that he usually buried under layers of his confidence and charm, and while he allowed himself to be more open with Alec than anyone else, it still left him with some discomfort. Habits were hard to unlearn, especially those that solidified over the course of centuries._ _

__Alec let out a huff of breath and kissed his brow. “Don’t worry, you still managed to look attractive through all of that.”_ _

__A pause, then Alec added: “I’m not going anywhere, Magnus, you know that, right? You’re not gonna lose me, not if I can help it.”_ _

_And what if you can’t help it?_ , Magnus thought, but he pushed it away. He would always be scared of losing Alec, be it to his job or to time. Death would eventually come for this man to whom Magnus had given his heart, but he hoped that it wouldn’t be for a long, long time. 

__“I know, darling, I know.” Magnus replied, slipping a hand in Alec’s raven hair and bringing him closer for a kiss. They melted against each other’s lips, their breaths mingling. He found comfort the press of their mouths, everything in him stilling and quieting._ _

__They kept kissing until their movements got sloppy and slow with sleep, and eventually Magnus laid them down and rested his head against Alec’s chest, drifting off to the sound of his heart against his ear, steady and strong and beautifully _alive_._ _

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr over [here](http://alxandermagnus.tumblr.com/)! Comments and kudos are much appreciated, this is my first time writing Malec so any kind of feedback would be amazing. ♥


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